I’ve never liked someone as little as I like her.
She’s loud and obnoxious. So am I, but I don’t take it as far as she does.
She’s rude to customers as well as co-workers. Who the hell does she think she is telling me how to do my job?! Um, I’ve been here for like two years total, bitch. You haven’t even been here for two months. I think I know a little more about the job than you do. And what the fuck is her problem, yelling at one of the employees that has been here the longest. She asked the simplest of questions. I wanted to knock her out right then and there.
And what the fuck is with her hair!!! “Look at my hair. It’s all messy! I just woke up and came to work. I didn’t have a chance to brush it.” WTF?!?!?! You can brush that chia pet you call hair? Nothing will tame that beast, bitch. Just let it go. Either that, or shave it the fuck off.
And who the fuck farts in front of customers, lifting their leg and all?! That’s fucking disgusting. “At least it doesn’t smell. Better my stomach doesn’t hurt.” No, bitch. Better you take your nasty ass outside and do that shit. How about a little respect, you fuck face?
“Where are you going, Jerlene? We have customers and you’re just walking away.” Open your fucking eyes, dick hair. I’m taking the fucking trash out. The cans and cart are full, the cook is busy and you only have two customers standing in front of your register. TWO! Can you not take care of it? If not, you’re in the wrong business. You might want to try remedial cashiering at the Hana fruit stands.
“Why are you talking to her like that? You know her like that?” I’m speaking to her the way I’ve always spoken to her. What the fuck business is it of yours? And I know her a hell of a lot better than you do, n00b. Stay the fuck out of it. All the shit you’re complaining about are things between us, that you wouldn’t understand. Then again, you don’t understand that a comb cannot fix the excessive amount of pubes on the top of your head that you like to refer to as hair…
Alright, vent over…for now.

Do you ever feel like things would actually be better if you killed yourself, just ended it all?
It’s sad that the only place I feel wanted is at work, and that’s only because they’re short-handed - though sometimes I tell myself that no one can do the job quite like I can. Just something to make me feel like that day was worth getting up for.
I can never seem to be happy. Sometimes I try to force myself to be happy - doesn’t work. At best, I’m content. That’s not enough for me anymore though. Frankly, I’m surprised that it got me this far.
I’d like my nephew to remember me when I’m gone. Though maybe it’s better if he doesn’t. I’d like to see my niece walk the line at her high school and college graduation. I’d like to see her walk down a church aisle toward the man of her dreams. I’d like to see her mother a child. I’d like to see both of them do something good with their lives. I’d like to see them learn from all of my mistakes and take different paths. None of that seems worth living this life that I was given anymore though.
Everyday gets harder. Everyone around me seems to tolerate me less and less. I can’t help it though. If I could I would, but I can’t. I am the way that I am. I can’t change. Believe me, I’ve tried.
I’d like to be happy. I can’t remember happiness.

My name is Jerlene. J-E-R-L-E-N-E. Do you see an “A” or a “Y” in there?

I get called “Jerlyn” a lot - ALOT. That, I don’t mind. I’m use to it and it’s actually how my name was originally intended to be pronounced.

My name is a combination of my mom’s name and my biological father’s name, which are Linda and Jeremiah. Don’t ask me how they got Jerlene in the end because not even they know, I’ve asked…dozens upon dozens of times.

The one name that I get called a lot as well is “Jarlene”. Jarlene? Are you serious? Come on now. This one, I don’t get, nor do I like it. I don’t know how someone can look at my name, hear people say my name and still actually call me “Jarlene”. Who the fuck names their kid “Jar”? Well, who the fuck names their kid Jerlene, right?

Anyway, I took a leave of absence from work for over a month. When I came back, my name switched from “JERLENE” to “JARLENE” on the schedule. I IMMEDIATELY said something about it. That’s one name that I never liked and probably will never like.

Misspellings, I don’t mind too much. For a good 5 months, even after I said something a bunch of times, my name on my work schedule was “JERLEEN”. I finally got it changed though. I didn’t like the way it looked.

So yeah, the proper pronunciation of my name is “Jer” as in the “jer” in “jerk” and “lene” as in “lean”[like lean meat or lean on me, you know?]. GET IT RIGHT! No, just kidding. Just don’t call me Jarlene. I’m begging you…